


Sanctuary

by remedialpotions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But also Fluff!, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-War, Smut, and a very small cameo from Teddy Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remedialpotions/pseuds/remedialpotions
Summary: On Hermione’s first full day back from Hogwarts, she and Ron escape for some much-needed time alone. Rated for language and sexual content.





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday times a thousand to my awesome friend Jenn582 (who I don’t think has an AO3, lol)! You are the best and I’m so happy to know you, and I hope you enjoy this smutty fluffy ridiculousness xx

Looking back, Hermione could not understand why she had agreed to this little outing. The idea had sounded perfectly well and good on the train ride home with Ginny - under most circumstances, taking Teddy swimming was quite a reasonable way to spend an afternoon - but it was her first full day back from Hogwarts, and she had always envisioned her reunion with Ron a bit differently. Even less clothing, for one, and a lot more privacy, and certainly not the presence of a turquoise-haired fourteen-month-old (even one she adored as much as Teddy).

So Hermione was doing a whole lot of looking at Ron, and not nearly as much touching as she’d have liked. The late June sun beat relentlessly down on them, bringing a pink flush to Ron’s bare shoulders and prompting beads of sweat to roll down the slope of his chest as he sat at the edge of the pond. Stretched out atop the sparse grass, his feet just barely submerged in the cool water, Ron leaned back on his palms so that the muscles in his arms tightened to support his weight. His gaze was cast toward the treeline, where only the very top of the Burrow - his room, Hermione realized with a pang of longing - was just barely visible.

Well. If she couldn’t touch, she was certainly going to look. While Harry and Ginny were content to help Teddy splash about in the shallow water, Hermione allowed her eyes to rove shamelessly over Ron’s naked torso, over the browning freckles decorating his skin and the golden highlights in his shaggy hair. Images from the night before, when she had snuck over to Grimmauld Place, flashed through her mind, reminding her just how good it always, and just how desperately she needed it again. Until yesterday, she hadn’t seen him since April - _April_ \- and there was quite a lot of lost time to make up for. And what else was she supposed to think about, when he was just sat there all shirtless and sweaty?

Ron turned to flash her a lopsided grin over his shoulder.

“Why are you looking at me?” he asked, voice low enough to stay out of earshot of their company.

“You need more sun potion on,” she replied, hoping to sound matter-of-fact about the whole thing.

“Oh, do I?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Care to assist, then?”

Yes. Of course she did. Of course she wanted nothing more than an excuse to run her hands all over him, but she knew how quickly it could escalate between them, and given present company, she thought they had better not risk it.

But before she could object, Ron rolled onto his stomach, extending an arm across the grass to retrieve a jar of sticky blue potion. When he sat up, he scooted closer to Hermione so that his thigh brushed against hers. Rather ceremoniously, he presented her the jar upon a flat, outstretched palm.

“Here you go.”

“You can do it yourself,” she said with a pointed tip of the head in the direction of Teddy, who now sat astride Harry’s shoulders.

“Sure I could,” he said, voice going low, husky, “but there’s no fun in that.”

He let one large hand fall to her thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. The pads of his fingers stroked lightly across her leg, stoking a fire that had begun to burn under her skin the moment he’d smiled at her.

But she was determined to keep it together. Her instinct, lately, was to constantly capitalize on their time together, borne of months of separation - but now she was back. They’d even be living together before the end of the summer, and she had to remind herself that she now had the luxury of seeing him every single day, so she could easily exercise some self-control.

“All right,” she replied primly, shifting onto her knees and settling herself behind him.  

Unscrewing the jar, she scooped up a generous portion in her hands and smeared it down the length of Ron’s spine. Try as she might to keep her movements brisk, businesslike, impersonal, she found herself lingering, retracing her fingers over a few particularly tantalizing areas. Years of Quidditch supplemented by months of Auror training meant that Ron had cultivated the exact right amount of lean muscle to drive Hermione mad, and it didn’t help that she was close enough to smell his hair.

Hastily, she rubbed the last vestige of potion into the back of his neck. “All set,” she told him, patting him conclusively on the shoulder.

“You missed a spot,” said Ron, mischief glinting in his eyes as he gestured to his entire torso.

So he knew what he was doing, then. And how could he not? He had to have felt the electricity coursing between them at even the slightest contact of their skin, had to have known that a lack of sun potion was hardly the reason she had been gaping at him.

“Do it yourself,” she repeated, tossing the jar onto his lap as she moved to sit beside him again.

He contemplated the jar for about half a second before shoving it aside and inching up beside her again. He leaned toward her, his lips a hair’s breadth away from the shell of her ear. “Actually,” he whispered, “I’ve got a much better idea.”

Clambering to his feet, he held a hand out to help her up, which she accepted.

“Oi!” shouted Ron, catching the attention of Harry and Ginny. “We’re going for a walk.”

Ginny snorted. “Sure you are.”

Ron looked quite like he had a few choice curse words ready in response, but Teddy’s presence must have stifled him, because he simply snatched his wand out of the grass and guided Hermione in the direction of the apple orchard. As they disappeared between the trees, the sounds from the three playing in the pond grew quieter until all she could hear was the soft crunch of old leaves beneath their feet.

“So where are we going, exactly?” asked Hermione, feeling more than a bit self-conscious walking around in just her swim costume.

“Er - you’ll see.”

“Ron-“

“It’s private, I promise.” He flashed a reassuring smile at her as he picked up speed, weaving through the densely-packed trees and then stopping so abruptly in his tracks that Hermione nearly collided into him. “And here we are.”

They stood before a massive tree with several wooden boards nailed into its trunk, which formed a rudimentary ladder up to a boxy wooden structure set into the branches. The thing appeared to be defying the very laws of physics, but as Hermione drew closer, she thought she sensed the many spells that held it in place.

“Come on, then.” Ron waved a hand grandly toward the tree. “Ladies first?”

It was, if nothing else, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes of his family, so Hermione set a foot on the lowest board, gripped one above her head, and hoisted herself up.

The interior of the treehouse, she learned shortly thereafter, was rather bare: it had clearly lost most of its appeal to the Weasley children as they had grown older. In one corner sat a tarnished lantern; in another, a stack of Martin Miggs comics. Nothing had gone dusty - there was likely a spell preventing that - so Hermione settled herself on the wooden floor and waited for Ron to join her.

“How have I never been here before?” asked Hermione when Ron had hauled himself up through the gap in the floor and sat cross-legged in front of her.

“I haven’t been up here in years myself,” he replied. “My dad built it for Bill and Charlie, and then they sort of passed it down to the rest of us. But by the time you were coming to stay for the summer, we - I don’t know, we usually had bigger things to worry about.”

“Right,” Hermione nodded. “It’s nice in here, though.” And it was: the cool shade provided a much-needed respite from the blinding heat of the summer sun. “No need for sun potion anymore.”

“Damn.” The smile never left Ron’s face as he leaned towards her and softly, briefly, claimed her lips with his. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“So am I.” Hermione reached out and trailed her hands over his forearms. “Sometimes it felt like - like it was never going to end, like being apart was just how things were always going to be and I’d spend most of my life missing you.”

“It still doesn’t really feel real,” said Ron. “I keep thinking you’ll have to leave again.”

Hermione slid her hands up his arms, over the coarse white scars that carved through soft freckled skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She couldn’t have said who leaned in first: all she knew was that his lips had landed blissfully on hers, her hands shifting into his hair to pull him closer. At the contact, he let out a soft groan into her mouth, nudging her lips apart so that his tongue touched hers. It was sweet relief to succumb to the longing that had consumed her all day. And she was back now, back for good, but that didn’t mean that any of the desperation had faded. She could spend every single day for the rest of her life with him, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Ron angled an arm behind her shoulders, guiding her onto her back as the kiss grew deeper. The length of his body covered hers, skin against skin, the heat of the day and the desire between them prompting sticky sweat to coat his chest. Hermione let her nails scratch down his scalp to the nape of his neck, and he gave a shudder.

Tearing his lips from hers, he laid a warm trail of kisses across her jaw. As his lips locked onto the pulse point of her throat, Hermione moved her legs apart so that her hips cradled his. Already, he was pressing into her, and she arched up to meet him.

“Ron,” she breathed, wiggling a bit on the wooden planks that comprised the floor, “this - this is-“

“What?” He propped himself up on one forearm to look down at her, an immense expression of affection on his face.

“This is a recipe for a splinter,” she said, making his head tip back as he laughed.

“Right,” he nodded, half-chuckling as he dropped a kiss onto her nose and rolled away from her. “All right, hold that thought.”

Hermione sat up to watch Ron retrieve his wand from a far corner of the treehouse. Now on his knees, he waved his wand to conjure a thin, soft blanket, which he arranged neatly across the floor.

“Better?”

“Perfect.”

As she moved to join him, he took her waist in both hands, drawing her in for another searing kiss. Her swim costume, which had earlier felt almost too revealing, now felt like the most insurmountable barrier between them. All she wanted was to be as close as humanly possible to him, and then some.

Clearly, Ron felt the same, because his fingers skimmed up her back to fiddle with the knot of fabric that held her swim costume in place. As the fabric slackened around her chest, he placed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, hands curving over her breasts. Hermione released a heavy, trembling sigh as Ron tipped her onto her back. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin on her neck, then her collarbone, before his lips brushed over the top of her breast. As his tongue curled over her nipple, her breathing grew shallow, ragged.

Ron gave a tug on her swim costume, attempting to remove it, only to find the half-dry material clung stubbornly to the curve of her waist.

“This thing has to go,” said Ron, rendered breathless.

“That’s what magic is for,” Hermione reminded him impatiently. “Just vanish it-“

But Ron - who’d had the sense to keep his wand nearby - simply sent the swim costume flying off across the treehouse, where it folded itself neatly against the wall.

“That way you’ll have something to wear home,” said Ron as he placed a kiss on her laughing mouth.

His hands roamed hungrily over her body now, caressing her breasts, thumbs playing at her nipples until they tightened into small peaks. Opening her legs further, Hermione pressed her hips up into the warm skin of Ron’s stomach, trying to indicate to him just what she needed. Her body had been set ablaze now, and the slightest touch from him prompted a heavy pulsing to develop at the apex of her thighs.

“Ron,” she breathed as he kissed down the slope of her torso, bringing the waistband of his shorts painfully out of her reach. “Ron, I - I need-“

He looked up, his chin on her hip bone. “What?”

“You,” she concluded, “I need _you_ -“

“You’ve got me,” he replied, so swiftly and assuredly that Hermione thought he had never been more sincere in his entire life. “Always.”

He kissed back up her body, the chestnut stubble that dotted his chin tickling her as he went, and when his lips had finally locked back on hers, she reached boldly into his shorts and wrapped her hand around him. A flush crept into his cheeks as she stroked up and down, kissing the straining cords of his throat, coaxing out a deep moan. With her free hand, Hermione managed to shove his shorts down his hips, and he kicked them the rest of the way off.

Hermione hitched one leg high on Ron’s waist, opening herself up to him so that his tip slipped against her. As he pushed inside, their lips grazed against each other, breaths mingling before connecting properly.

“You all right?” asked Ron, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Brilliant.”

“Brilliant,” he grinned, drawing his hips back and then driving into her again.

Winding her legs around his waist, Hermione lifted her hips up to meet his every movement, one hand dug into his back, the other sinking into his sweat-streaked hair. Ron’s lips found the curve of her shoulder, her neck, the patch of skin behind her ear. With a forearm braced beside her head, he brushed a rogue lock of hair away from her face and then kissed her with such tenderness that she thought she might melt right into the floor.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“I love you too,” he said, “so fucking much-“

And he thrust so powerfully into her that the floorboards creaked.

Running a hand down her side, Ron’s fingers snaked between their bodies, down to the point where their bodies joined. He raised himself up on one palm, never breaking his rhythm, as he brushed his thumb over her. Legs shaking, Hermione arched her back, needy whimpers erupting from her throat. Powerful waves began to crest over her as Ron continued to rub her, his movements sure and determined, hips undulating into her. With a sharp gasp, she tightened up around him, control slipping further and further away as he flooded every one of her senses.

As the world spun back into focus, Ron slowed down. His soothing hands caressed her hips, her waist, the subtle swell of her breasts. He shifted to his knees, keeping her legs clamped around his waist, and she  opened her eyes to see him gazing fondly down at her, blue eyes dark with desire. Hermione sought out one of his hands with her own, grasping it loosely as their eyes locked.

She’d have gladly stayed there with him forever. There was a time - several times, actually - when she was sure this was something she would never have, that she’d die before it happened, or the world would keep getting in their way. But now she had him, giving all of himself to her, and it was all she had ever wanted.

When their bodies stilled, Ron lowered himself down to her, catching her lips softly with his, before rolling away onto his side. As Hermione worked to catch her breath, Ron tucked his face into her neck and kissed her there. He grabbed the end of the blanket nearest to him and drew it over their bare bodies, cocooning them inside.

“I don’t want to go back,” admitted Hermione, turning to face him.

“Well-“ Ron kissed her shoulder. “I’m not sure we have to, I don’t think they ever believed we were going for a walk.”

“We did go for a walk,” Hermione pointed out, “and it ended here.”

Ron gave a short, surprised laugh. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Honestly,” Hermione began, inching closer to Ron, “I wish we could just stay here, I - you know, I’m back for good now, and you have two jobs and I’m starting mine next week. Soon it’ll all settle in, and we’ll be paying bills and working all the time and doing laundry and I just… I want to hang onto the way things are now for as long as I can.”

“Are you scared we’ll get into like a - a rut?”

“It happens to couples all the time.”

“Yeah,” he conceded. “Couples that aren’t us. Couples that haven’t been through what we’ve been through. Hermione…” He had begun twirling an unruly lock of her hair around his finger. “It was a long time ago, but if I stop and think about it, I can still hear you screaming like it was yesterday. I could never take you for granted, I could never let anything like - like bills, or laundry, or work, ever get in the way of knowing how lucky I am to have you.”

Hermione tilted her face up to kiss him. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

“I know I am too,” Ron grinned as he hugged her against him.

“But - can we just stay like this for a bit longer?”

“We’ll stay as long as you want.”


End file.
